


Rewinded

by Beweme



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Crush, Awkward Kissing, Bittersweet Ending, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Dubious Consent Due To Memory Loss, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Moral Dilemmas, One-Sided Attraction, Starting Over, headcanons galore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29532579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beweme/pseuds/Beweme
Summary: Maxwell hits his head, and wakes up as someone entirely different than who Wilson has gotten used to.
Relationships: Charlie & Maxwell (Don't Starve), Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve), William/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 60





	1. The other you

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just getting a different perspective for the things and playing around with some ideas and what ifs. Enjoy!

If Wilson had ever had regrets of bringing Maxwell into the battle with him, it was right now. Why did the man always use too many shadows and get himself in a worse state than he would've been without? As if Wilson didn't already have his hands full, trying to fend off the hounds and keep himself alive without having to keep an eye on the magician who had terrible headaches as a drawback from using his shadow clones.

Well, it wasn't any surprise, really. Maxwell relied on his shadows so much it was a miracle he hadn't turned into a one himself yet. Summoning too many shadows and getting light-headed was to be expected sometimes. What Wilson hadn't been expecting though, was when Maxwell suddenly tripped over his own feet and fell down the hill while trying to avoid the attacking hound, and ended up hitting his head on the large rock in the foot of the hill.

"Max!" Wilson yelled in panic and quickly run to the other man and killed the final hound before it had a chance to sink it's teeth to his frail and weak, unconscious friend. The fact that Maxwell was unconscious was worrisome enough, he didn't need to be ripped apart by the monsters, too.

"Maxwell, are you ok?" The scientist asked, kneeling beside him and moving his head carefully with his fingers, trying to see if there was bleeding, if there was a reason to panic. Maxwell didn't react at first, laying still and quiet. Wilson started to already get worried over his health, started to fear that he had received a fatal wound when hitting his head, but after a few additional shakes and pokes the older man made a noise and frowned. A giant relief run through Wilson like a wave. Oh thank god, he was not dead.

"That was quite a fall, wasn't it? Let's get you to the camp and take a better look at your head... that looked like it hurt." Wilson chuckled, really glad that Maxwell seemed to be at least conscious again.

But then the man opened his eyes, made a weird, confused face, and groaned pulling away from Wilson.

"Pardon me sir, I'm not sure I'm following... What happened, exactly?"

Wilson paused and blinked. _SIR?!?!?_

"Uhhh... You hit your head? Falling down the hill, when you tried to not get killed by the hounds?"

Maxwell looked at him with very confused, almost a bit frightened eyes, until a small smile crept on his face and he let out an awkward chuckle that sounded like a noise that Maxwell would _never_ make.

"Heh, yeah... that does sound like me. I'm sorry, I must've caused you so much trouble. I'm..." the older man furrowed his brows and his face darkened "It seems that I'm a little lost. I'm supposed to be with my friend. Have you seen her? A little bit taller that you, big eyes, tiny nose, very-" Maxwell made the movement with his hands that looked like an hourglass, and actually blushed "-very pretty woman. You haven't happened to see her by any chance, have you?"

Wilson stared at the other man in bewilderment. He had no idea what was going on, if this was perhaps some unfunny joke or attempt to make him feel guilty for letting Maxwell fall, but what ever it was, it was weird and made his skin crawl.

"No, no I haven't." Wilson answered, and felt the strange kind of pity when Maxwell's face turned even more concerned. If Maxwell wouldn't usually be so terrifying, Wilson could've almost thought that he looked like a lost dog right now.

"Oh. I have to find her, I... I don't know where I am but if I'm here, she has to be here with me Oh no, she must be scared."

"Maxwell..." Wilson could barely get his words out of his mouth, out of pure confusion "Do you have amnesia? You hit your head pretty bad there..." Wilson reached to touch his head carefully, and while Maxwell would normally slap his hand away and spat some prideful, mean answer at him, the man did no such thing right now. He just got seemingly very flustered from the sudden touch and looked at Wilson with a nervous smile on his face. It made Wilson's stomach flip.

"Oh, you have heard of me? Have you been on my show?" there was a glimmer in his eyes as he leaned closer to Wilson, smiling, and Wilson in turn leaned back in horror. He had no idea what to answer. Furthermore, he hadn't realized that Maxwell was even able to smile like that.

Maxwell didn't seem to mind, and he hurried to continue "Oh I'm so sorry, I'm so rude! Didn't even introduce myself to the man who helped me, apparently. You may call me William. Maxwell is just a stage-name." the man, Maxwell, William, whoever, offered his hand to Wilson and smiled in very unMaxwell-like manner. Wilson, still very dumbfounded, took his hand and shook it. He kept waiting for the moment when Maxwell was going to burst out in laughter and say something like 'I can't believe you fell for that' or something. 

But no, the man just smiled at him and said something else about his show that Wilson did not know or care about at the moment. He was too confused. Almost afraid, even. That must've been a _really_ bad hit to his head.

Suddenly Maxwell, err.. _William_ made a frightened face and started patting his suit frantically, until his expression changed from panic to beyond relieved when his hand pressed on the familiar place where he always used to carry Codex, and sighed when he pulled the old tome out.

"Oh, thank heavens, I was afraid I had lost this, too..." he explained, letting out a long sigh and pressing the book against his chest. Wilson blinked.

"Um. Max- uh, William. Don't you think we should go back to the camp and treat that head injury?"

"Oh, yes, we should. Let's return to your camp. Is it far?" William quickly agreed and put his book away again, trying to stand up. It didn't go so well. It seems that he was dizzy and there was just some general awkwardness in his movement, as if he tried too hard to be graceful and respectable. Wilson felt uncomfortable, but he still stood up and put his hand on William's back to help him stand up.

William thanked him again, and Wilson confusedly and carefully guided the man back at their camp. There it was almost impossible to make William sat down so Wilson could take a better look at his head injury, since William kept wandering from one structure to another, asking a lot of questions, and being just so amazed about _everything_. Wilson had to wonder how much had he forgotten? Surely there could've been some kind of memories of this place, of the Constant and _Them_ , in his head? It was almost like he was a different person now.

It was weird to see Maxwell's face smiling like that, talking like that, being so... cute! It was unnatural. Wilson had a hard time containing his over-boiling curiosity. In any other ( _any_ other) case he would've already been asking questions as much as William was, he would've wanted to poke and cut and sample everything that was possible.

What kept him from doing it was the simple but important fact that it was Maxwell. Despite finding out what felt like ages ago, that in reality Maxwell was very weak and very accident prone and he had no say in how the things went anymore, not more than any other survivor had, Wilson was still a bit afraid of the man. Just a bit. It was too easy to remember the time when Maxwell held all the cards and Wilson was unable to successfully fight anything the nightmare King would throw upon him. Sometimes when Maxwell got angry, some part inside Wilson twisted and woke up, remembering some old wounds inflicted by the older man.

But even as he kept his fingers to himself and held his tongue, he was burning to have answers.

_Maxwell is just a stage-name._

It hadn't really crossed Wilson mind before this curious mishap, that Maxwell had been someone, too. It was odd to realize that _of course_ he had a past, he hadn't just conjured up from some dark pit to torment this word like some ancient evil demon (although, it would've been a very befitting backstory). Of course he, too, was once someone's child, someone's brother, maybe someone's boyfriend. It shouldn't feel so weird to think about.

But William didn't seem anything like Maxwell did. Not by the long-shot.

"Maxwell, um, William. Could you please come sit here so I can take a look at that injury" Wilson pleaded, and finally got the older man to sit down next to the campfire.

"I'm sorry, it's just that..." William smiled shyly "I... I don't really remember how I got here. And it seems like you have been living here a long time and all of this is... amazing." the man gasped in excitement, gesturing towards the machines and arguably weird things built in their camp.

Wilson fought against the fluttering feeling in his stomach, but couldn't help but puff up his chest a bit "Oh, it does?" he tried not to sound too desperate for validation, especially from Maxwell. He still couldn't be entirely sure this wasn't some over the top prank that only Maxwell could ever find funny.

"Yes, I mean, not just anyone can build things like these" William smiled at him, and Wilson had to turn his head away. Something about the fact that Maxwell was so genuinely and openly admiring something he had done felt, in some weird way that Wilson wasn't ready to admit to himself, very very warming. It wasn't like he wanted Maxwell's admiration or respect. Not at all. Not even a small bit. Not a single lonely and insecure part of him yearned to be acknowledged by him. He could live just fine without his approval. Thank you.

"Oh, heh... Thank you. But I mean, I can't just take all the credit-" 

"Oh, no need to be so modest, Mr.-" William paused and frowned slightly "...Uh, I don't think I got your name?"

Oh, right. Wilson had forgotten that if Maxwell had received so bad hit in the head that he had forgotten who he was, then he obviously didn't remember Wilson either.

"Wilson."

"Just Wilson?"

"Well, uh, no. It's Wilson P.Higgsbury." he cleared his throat. Some gentleman, didn't even remember to introduce himself to someone who was more than confused out of their mind at the moment "So, Maxwell-"

"William is fine."

"Right. Uh, _William_..." Wilson finished inspecting his head and pulled some salve to stick to the wound "May I ask, what _do_ you remember? You said you don't know how you got here, but what else?" Wilson had to know, not only for the mutual safety and care, but because he was very curious what the hell was this whole thing about. He knew Maxwell had been a stage magician and Charlie his assistant, even though the old man didn't like to talk about it. But for some reason, maybe because of the shame and regret, maybe even out of some respect, Maxwell always answered if Wilson asked about it, although only briefly and shortly. But similarly, out of respect, Wilson didn't want to pry, and thus didn't ask about it.

William knitted his brows together and looked down.

"I... The last thing I remember was traveling with Charlie. She's that friend that I lost." William started to slowly explain, as if he himself had to think really hard to even grasp the thoughts he was trying to put in order "We had finished a show and were preparing to take the train to another one, so we left the hotel and... And that's it."

Wilson felt the cold pressure inside his chest when he watched as the older man started to curl and uncurl his long, gloved fingers nervously. So, he had lost a lot of his memories, huh? But what the hell was this William business, then? Maxwell had never indicated in any way that Maxwell was not his real name. Although, Wilson thought a bit bitterly, it wasn't really his business if Maxwell decided to go by his stage-name, now was it.

Still, it worried him how little Maxwell was aware of what was going on.

"You mean... you really can't remember anything that happened? I mean, _anything_ at all? The throne, or the portal, _Them_ -"

William flinched back so suddenly and sharply that it almost made Wilson flinch away as well. For a moment the magician stared at him with very frightened, wide eyes, hands gasping his suit nervously, as if he was afraid to move.

"How... How do you know about _Them_?"

Wilson blinked and slowly opened his mouth.

"I-I... Um, well..." Wilson licked his lips "I'm not sure how much you know or remember at the moment but... You see... This is _Their_ world. We're kind of stuck here now. And I don't know how to tell you this, but you and I have been living here together for some time now, and your friend..."

William's face turned as white as sheet.

"When-How- W-what happened? How long have you been here- How long have _I_ been here?! Is Charlie here with us?" the man started asking, eyes widening and color draining away more and more every second, and Wilson realized that he might have made a mistake.

"Hey, calm down, calm down..." he tried to comfort the older man who was obviously too frightened and disturbed to do so. He took William's hand and tried to give him a reassuring smile, but the man jumped up.

"I have to go. I need to find Charlie."

Wilson opened his mouth but then realized, that telling Maxwell when he was like this, telling him what had actually happened, why they were here and what had happened to Charlie ages ago, was probably gonna make things only worse. Maxwell had told him what happened just once before, and Wilson had no doubt that if Maxwell had such a hard time handling the truth after having to live with it for years, he couldn't handle it any better if he had to learn it from someone else when he didn't even remember doing anything wrong yet.

"William, you should rest. It's gonna be dark very soon and I'm sure things will seem better in the morning."

William looked at him with the face that said that he wanted really, _really_ badly do as Wilson suggested, but he ended up shaking his head instead, an apologetic smile on his lips.

"Thank you for helping me and being so kind, Wilson. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I really need to leave... If we are not on earth then- I, I don't know what I can do but I have to go find Charlie and I need to-" William's hand rose to press the place where Codex was safely tugged inside his jacket "I need to talk to my friends."

"Wait-" Wilson started, but William had already started to powerwalk away and didn't look back. Wilson took a hasty step after him, but then halted suddenly. Should he even chase after the other man? Simply but, it was not his business what the man decided to do, whether the person was William or Maxwell. Wilson still didn't need to babysit him.

Maybe it was even better that the man realized on his own record where he was and what had happened. Who knows, maybe he even got his memory back that way. That might solve this whole thing. If the man walked around and saw where he was, saw all the familiar places, plants and creatures he had created, then maybe that would spark some memories in his head.

Wilson sat back down and started restlessly drumming his fingers on his knees. He probably didn't need to worry about a thing, everything would turn back to normal eventually. All was fine and well, nothing bad was probably going to happen if he didn't go messing around with the things he shouldn't. Everything was going to be okay.

... Until William would realize that nights here were very different from the ones he was used to on Earth, and he hadn't even prepared a light source of any kind.

_Shit._

Wilson jumped up and snatched his backpack, hurrying after the other man. Maybe it wasn't his business and not his problem, but god damnit, he wasn't someone who could just leave another person in trouble.

\---

William stumbled through the scenery that was getting weirder and weirder the more he paid attention to it. He tried not to. Some things were ordinary, pine trees, boulders, grass, but some things were very unusual, very unnerving the more he let himself think about it. Weird plants and odd animals. William was sure he saw a group of spiders the size of his head, overpowering the pig that walked on hind legs and was wearing a cloth on it's waist.

It didn't matter to him, not right now. He needed to find the place where he had woken up, and maybe that way he could track his way back to Charlie somehow. He was sure she was here with him. The last thing he remembered was sitting in the train with her, talking about the next show. It had just started to go well, he had just started to gain some name and actually make money from his shows. He really hoped she was okay. 

And now he was god knows where, in his act suit, and he didn't know where his belongings were or when he had lost Charlie or why they were here, and he really hoped that it wasn't true that he had already been here for some time, living with that Wilson guy for some reason, and on top of everything it was starting to slowly get dark now.

William stopped and looked around. He didn't recognize a single landmark, everything looked the same. The same weird, same strange, same unknown. His hand absently rose to press the Codex inside his jacket. If Wilson was telling the truth, if _They_ had something to do with this... 

He quietly pulled the Codex out, flipped it open, and stared at it for a long silent moment, lifeless pages, still whispering quietly, always ready for him to use when he wanted. He rose his hand up and tried to pull shadows out, but nothing came. He tried again. Then he just pressed Codex close to his chest and pegged for answers or reasons or anything to explain this, but _They_ stayed silent besides snickering in his head, whispering, mocking, that he thought he could demand answers from _Them_ , who did he think he was. Then the book fell silent and refused to follow his commands on answer his questions anymore.

William let out a defeated whine and hunched down. Who was he kidding, he knew he shouldn't have ever played with the powers beyond his control. He didn't know why, he didn't know how, but he _knew They_ had their signature written all over this mess. He had the sickening feeling that this was his fault, somehow.

The darkness started to fall. William got up and looked around. He was scared, but he knew that he should find a shelter to spend the night in. It had been stupid to leave Wilson's camp when he had hardly any idea where to go or what to do, but finding Charlie had been more important to him at the moment and he acted without thinking. The man sighed and started walking deeper into the forest.

It got darker.

And darker.

And at some point William started to worry how dark it could even get. Soon he wouldn't be able to see a thing.

Then, suddenly, a scent stopped him. There was a noise in the dark, sweeping past him and curling around him like the darkness itself had moved. Something made him stop dead on his tracks, freeze in place out of some instinct, out of fear of what was in that blackness of the night. And then, out of hopeful feeling, when he saw a faint figure in the shadows that he recognized, he sighed. Eyes in the dark blinked open, watched him with a sharp stare, and William opened his mouth to a small relieved smile and started to walk closer, hurry to his friend.

"Charlie-" she must've been so scared, she must've been terrified here alone. William was sure she was relieved to see him too, Charlie was the braver one of them, but she was smart enough to fear what should be feared. He wanted to hurry to her and tell her that it was okay now, they were together and he had met a nice man who could help them and give them a place to spent tonight-

Instead of words of fondness, instead of glee or relief, instead of hug or kind touch of the delicate small hands, there was a dangerous hiss in the dark, and then William felt something big and sharp dig into his torso and claw across his abdomen, rip his suit and tear his flesh.

His eyes widened and he screamed, falling down on the ground, reaching to hold his wound, rising his terrified eyes to the dark figure in the darkness.

"C-charlie? Wait, w-wait Charlie, it's me! Don't you recognize me? What's going on, what are you doing!?"

The thing, Charlie, only hissed and growled like some kind of a monster and there was that sound again, the approaching claw dashing through the air to finish the job, and William winched and rose his arms to shield himself, even though he already knew that this was the end.

The claws never reached him when suddenly a torch flew over his shoulder and landed on his feet, rolling on the ground and creating a circle of light around him. He saw, he saw the darkness actually hiss and _back away_ from it. William stared, dumbfounded, as Wilson threw another torch to the darkness.

"No! Shoo, go away! No eating people tonight!" the young man yelled and stood in front of William protectively. William could tell from the way Wilson's whole body shook and how sharply he breathed, how his shoulders rose up and down in tense movements, that Wilson had been running. The scientist stood there for a few seconds, catching his breath, until he eventually turned to face William again.

"You okay? Oh, rats-" the man hissed and cringed when he saw the taller man's torn abdomen. William didn't refuse when Wilson knelt down and started to inspect his wound "Yeah, this needs some doctoring... Honey poultice will do, as long as we clean the wound properly..."

Wilson shook back when the large, slender hands slowly rose to his shoulders, grabbing his clothes tight, and he didn't have time to do anything else than rose his head in confusion, before William's head bumped on his chest. Wilson froze, hands suddenly hovering in air without knowing where to place them.

"I... I saw her" William sniffed, and grabbed Wilson's vest tight within his fists "I saw Charlie. She's... I don't understand... I don't understand anything..."

Wilson had never heard or seen Maxwell cry before. William acted nothing like Maxwell, spoke nothing like Maxwell, but when he cried, damn did it sound exactly like he imagined Maxwell would sound like. Wilson bit his lip and carefully lowered his hand on the other man's shoulders, and when that made William only lean closer when he wept pitifully out of fear and confusion, Wilson had enough courage to wrap his arms around the shaking shoulders and pull him into compassionate hug.

"It's going to be okay." he hushed the other man softly "I'm going to help you. I'm here."

The hands only grasped him tighter, shaking shoulders rising up when the past-Maxwell cried and sought comfort from him like a child after a nightmare. Only this time there was no nightmare to wake up from. There was just the reality of mistakes that William didn't remember doing yet.


	2. Your magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> William opens up to Wilson about himself, and the scientist is starting to see things in the new kind of light.

It had taken a while for William to get over the shock of seeing Charlie and getting in terms with the fact that he was stuck here now. Wilson spend hours comforting the other man who had very hard time comprehending something so horrible happening to Charlie, and he kept repeating that he didn't understand how or _why_. Wilson was only able to explain him the simple basic facts: That Charlie was the nightmonster and the Queen of this place now, Codex had sucked them into this world called Constant, and Wilson and Maxwell were survivors and shared the camp at the moment. After taking his time to calm down, William seemed surprisingly open to the new information. Seeing Charlie as her worst had probably been a major wake up to the older man. Hardly anything was going to top that.

Wilson wasn't sure how to break the news to him that it was mostly his fault, that he was to blame for all of this. He wasn't sure if he should even tell him that at all. It might be better if William learned it now from him rather than found out some other way, but letting him believe he had done nothing wrong seemed easier for both of them, for now. But then again, it felt somewhat cruel. Wilson couldn't bear to imagine how badly it would destroy William if Wilson let him live in a lie and then let the weight of his actions crush him when he finally learned the truth.

In the end Wilson couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe it made him a coward, but when he saw William being so shocked and terrified and confused about everything without even knowing it was his fault, that the world here was molded by his own hand, the monsters raised to their terrific glory by him, the tragic fate of Charlie being the direct consequence of his own mistakes... He just couldn't do it. Maybe Maxwell would get his memory back soon, and Wilson didn't even really have to worry about the burden of holding the truth from the man who had the right to hear it.

Besides, he didn't want to sour the mood now that William had finally calmed down a bit. Wilson realized that he actually kind of liked the man like this. The aura of awkwardness and nervousness somewhat resembled Maxwell, except Maxwell was much more toned down and better at hiding his weaknesses. But sometimes he had let the facade slip, and Wilson always found it humorous when the man would do or say something embarrassing and then act like he wasn't sure if he wanted to kill everyone around him to leave no witnesses, or kill himself to escape the shame. It was adorable, in a way. Not that Wilson would ever say it out loud, but it was. It made Maxwell seem more human, mortal. More like just another man like him.

It was late into the night, probably even closer to the morning now, when Wilson was mostly done treating the wound since William hadn't been calm enough to sit still without breaking into small weeps and sobs all the time before. Wilson understood, it wasn't easy to suddenly have to accept the fact that you were stuck somewhere alone and without any way to reach out to the people you used to know or the life you had before. Well, William still didn't know exactly _how_ long he had been here, and Wilson didn't intend to scare him again so soon by telling him he had already wasted _years_ here.

For all he had understood, all the memories of Constant and his time here, even his memories as a successful magician were erased completely, and the former King believed he was still much younger than now, traveling with his lovely assistant trying to make a name for himself. Wilson wondered if William could already tell that his physical state didn't really reflect his mental one right now, if he felt the aftermath of the throne and the years in his bones and muscles and joints. If the man had a hunch, he didn't bring it up at any point.

It was kind of bittersweet to see Maxwell's past-self being so innocent and nice and firmly believing he had a bright future ahead of himself. It was almost depressing to see him fearing the world he was in, and it was disturbing how much it tugged Wilson's heartstrings. Maxwell wasn't allowed to make him feel such feelings towards him, or at least he wasn't allowed to make Wilson acknowledge those feelings!

The scientist had a faint smile on his lips when he patched up William's abdomen, apologizing every once in a while when the older man winched in pain. Charlie really had tried to kill him, even when the darkness wasn't fully fallen yet. Wilson didn't want to think about it, didn't want to stress himself out and distract himself from the more important things. Things like comforting William when the man tapped his thumbs together and watched Wilson's hands working on the injury.

"Don't worry, this will heal faster than you'll even notice. The poultice is pretty powerful stuff." he told the other man and gave him an encouraging smile, which William returned briefly before sighing and looking down at his legs. The tents were not small, but Wilson felt kind of bad for Maxwell - for William - because he just had so absurdly long limbs that sometimes it felt a bit crowded inside the tent with him anyway.

"Thank you. For saving me again." William cleared his throat and his cheeks turned pink color. Wilson just smiled.

"Hey, don't worry about it. That's what friends are for, right?"

It wouldn't be out of the reach to call them friends. Perhaps in a normal situation, in the normal world, they wouldn't be - but here they were friends, no matter how much Wilson sometimes wondered why he ever even bothered with the other man. William rose his arm and scratched his neck, then dropped it to lightly pat the pockets on his pants and shirt, then paused.

"Oh, I seem to have lost my glasses."

Even the mere thought that Maxwell would ever wear glasses felt bizarre. Was _that_ why he was always leering and squinting at everything? Because he just had a bad sight?? Then again, maybe it was just the way he had always been. Perhaps he'd gotten used to seeing without glasses so much so that he didn't even really need them anymore.

"Well, I suppose I can survive a few days without- Oh, right... No idea how to get home, stuck here now... umm..." William's voice was unsure and still very confused, a bit scared, and it made Wilson want to wrap his arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay. He wondered if Maxwell had already rid himself off of this person who he used to be, or if he was still like this when he ended up in Constant, if he had been this frightened and confused and timid.

The young man finished covering the wound and placed his hand carefully on William's shoulder, gaining a wary but welcoming smile from the other man "Hey, it's fine. I'm here with you, you don't have to figure this out alone."

Some old bitter feeling sparked inside, the delicious idea of leaving Maxwell alone and scared in the terrifying world where everything wanted to kill him, just like Wilson had started his life here, just like Maxwell had forced him to do, but he let that small spark die down and disappear. It was in the past now, and it wouldn't do any good to punish someone who didn't even know what he was punished for.

 _Besides,_ Wilson reminded himself when William placed his own hand on top of Wilson's and thanked him in the most grateful smile the scientist had ever seen, _they were friends_. And friends didn't take revenge on each other, even if they sometimes _really_ wanted to.

"Right, uh... I think it'd be better for you to get some sleep now. It will feel better in the morning, I promise." Perhaps Maxwell would be back in the morning. Although, Wilson had to admit, he found himself already kind of attached to William, in a weirdly protective way. In a same way one could feel attached to the stray cat they had just picked up from the rain and already felt like they wanted to take care of it forever.

Wilson shook the thoughts out of his head. That was just stupid. Maxwell was Maxwell even if he had managed to hit his head and forget everything that had happened in the last, what, twenty years (ten years, thirty? It was hard to say, Maxwell stayed pretty vague and silent about his time on the throne).

William only smiled at him warmly and nodded, patting his hand.

"Thank you, Wilson. I'm very glad we're, uh... friends?"

Wilson felt his heart skip a beat for that kind, shy smile.

"...Yeah, friends."

William gave him another big smile, and all Wilson could think about was that how was it even possible that Maxwell used to apparently do hardly anything else than smile like a happiest puppy in the world, and then just stopped smiling altogether like it was impossible for him to even try to attempt any kind of positive emotion.

He was probably looking too deeply into things. William was Maxwell, when Maxwell was younger. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary for a person to change drastically over the years, it shouldn't have been so shocking to Wilson.

Still, when William laid down and went out like a candle (probably because of all the stress he must've been in, poor thing), Wilson found himself still staring at his lips, even when the smile had already faded away when the sleep took over.

\---

Surprisingly, Maxwell's memory didn't come back to him after the night of the deepest sleep he had probably ever had in his life. It worried Wilson, but at the same time felt kind of glad that he got to keep this earlier version of who Maxwell used to be around a bit longer. There was something very likeable about William, even if Wilson couldn't quite pinpoint what exactly it was. Maybe his smile, the way he always seemed so grateful about everything? The way he somehow looked up to Wilson, that he respected Wilson? Or maybe it was his awkwardness, the oddly insecure behavior as if he was sorry to even be alive - it made Wilson want to hug him so tight. Which was very very impolite thing to do, so he didn't. He still wanted to, though.

Wilson kept helping William out as much as he was able to, and when he wasn't, well, he kept an eye on the man, out of both worry and interest. He was strangely intrigued by the not-really-Maxwell, but even more than that he was simply concerned because...

Because, it turned out that William was even _more_ pathetic survivor than Maxwell. At least Maxwell had some kind of impression of capability he was keeping up, while William... William absolutely did not. How was it even possible for someone be so accident-prone and clumsy and awkward, the mixture of feelings that made the man tangled mess full of of sorrys and pardons and excuse-mes.

In the first day Wilson had given William a simple task to go empty the traps in the field. William did, he emptied all the traps, literally. He let all the little rabbits go and was so very happy to watch them hop around freely that Wilson didn't even have a heart to get angry. They could eat something else, then. He didn't want to crush William's spirit for one misunderstood request.

He then kindly asked William if he knew how to gather honey, and after having a positive answer, he gave the taller man a bee-keeper hat and send him on his way - the beeboxes were just around the corner, it couldn't be that difficult. Somehow William had instead found his way to the field full of beehives, not the beeboxes, and on top of that he then proceeded to gather honey from the first hive he saw, which just so happened to be a killerbee hive.

After maybe half a day William came back full of stings and barely able to walk due all the pain the stings must've caused him. Wilson immediately started tending to him and apologized for not clarifying that they in fact had somewhat domestic bees, and instructed him to never go near the red hives again.

William in turn told him that it was okay and apologized for not doing it right, and then thanked Wilson, for what must've been a hundredth time, for being so nice to him. It sparked some differing emotions inside the scientist. Why did William need to thank him so often for just treating him like any decent person would treat another? It was sweet, but it also made the younger man a tad bit sad... William was so nice, he shouldn't feel like he needed to be grateful for other people being nice back at him.

Wilson very cautiously send William to do one last task, with very low chances of going wrong, telling himself that surely William wasn't going to mess up something very very simple like gathering food for crockpot, right?

... Right???

William without a fail came back with only the kind of food that could not be cooked in the crokpot, and at that point Wilson seriously wondered if there was a chance that some unknown curse had been laid upon the poor man and he simply was incapable of succeeding at anything.

But William had been so apologetic, repeating over and over how sorry he was that he couldn't be more useful and how this was apparently the only thing he could be good for, that Wilson took the seeds, petals and birchnuts from him with a big smile and thanked him for the hard work, and only when William turned his back did the man silently put the loot away and pull something else out of the icebox to be cooked.

In the evening, when the night was just about to fall and he had already lit up the firepit and sat down to serve him and his guest some meatballs, William suddenly let out a long sigh.

"Wilson... I feel like I have to apologize for being a burden and inconvenience for you today. I really didn't mean to cause so much trouble for you, it's just that..." William put his untouched plate away and crossed his fingers together and hung his head "I have been trying to comprehend all of this, and everything here is so strange and I am worried about Charlie, and I'm not really used to living like this... Ah, not that I'm ungrateful! I'm very thankful that you've been so patient with me!" The man rose his hands up in defensive manner and gave Wilson a concerned look. It made Wilson's insides twitch.

"Hey, um... It's fine. I know you have trouble after losing your memory and all, and I don't blame you for anything. Besides, you did your best. That's what counts, right?" the scientist offered the other man an encouraging grin, to which William answered with very sorry smile.

"It's just too bad that my best really sucks, right?"

Without even knowing what he was doing, Wilson scooted closer and took William by his hand, staring into his dark eyes with serious look and leaning almost a bit too close to him "Your best is enough, you don't have to be sorry for not doing more than you can! I'm grateful for your effort!"

William looked positively flabbergasted, as if Wilson had just broke all the logic in the world and then build it up again with a different outcome. The bright red color rose to his face and William's mouth hung open with words he tried so hard to say but didn't know how.

Then he just leaned closer and pulled Wilson into a hug. It wasn't tight or crushing, but it felt very desperate. Wilson blinked in surprise, but just placed his own hands on William's back and felt the other man untensing.

"You're so kind man, Wilson. No wonder I want to be friends with you."

"Heh, uh, thanks... I, I think you're very kind, too." He was kind. Maxwell wasn't very kind anymore, but perhaps he had been, once. Wilson was quiet for a while longer, until he sucked his lip nervously and continued "But you know, I didn't say that because it was a kind thing to say. I really meant it. I really do think your best is enough. At least uh, it's enough for me."

It felt odd to have to build up confidence for Maxwell, as if he needed to boost his ego any bigger than it already was... But damn it, why did he have to be so sad now? It made Wilson confused. Confused and very protective, and he wasn't used to feeling protective over Maxwell.

William hadn't answered him yet, so Wilson started absentmindedly rubbing hand on his back, fingers slowly running over the bones, tracing their shapes on the skin. He was so skinny. Wilson had to remember to make sure that he would eat enough.

"It would do some good to have some trust on yourself. I think- I _know_ you can do very great things. There is no need to be so nervous, there is no one here who would judge you for failing at something. I know I don't."

"...Do you like magic?"

Wilson was about to groan irritably and start ranting about how magic was not real and it was nothing but cheap tricks that only fools who didn't know better believed in, but something in William's tone made him swallow back every word. It wasn't just a question, no, it was much more. William must've put together by now that Wilson was a man of science, but he still asked, because he needed Wilson to be a man of whatever it was that William needed at the moment.

"...Yes. I do. Like magic, yes, I absolutely do." he said faster than warranted, so fast it was obvious it was not entirely true, but William didn't seem to mind. He pulled away from Wilson and smiled widely, and Wilson saw that there was a small glimmer in the corner of his eye, the withheld tears he hadn't allowed to start falling yet - Wilson was filled with the growing need to make sure that they never would fall out of those deep, dark eyes.

"Would you like to see some? It's nothing special really, but I know some tricks I haven't done much after I started basing my shows on the magic of Codex Umbra. I don't have my equipment with me, but I can work with what I got in hand."

Wilson bit back a comment that maybe William should've stuck with the ordinary fake magic rather than messing with the real one (which by the way was not real either, and one day Wilson would prove it). Instead he smiled and nodded, not because he really wanted to see some illusions played on his senses, but because the expression William made was so heart-wrenchingly exited and gleeful.

...The magic tricks William showed him weren't anything special, just like he had warned. They were, in fact, kind of bad, sloppy and clumsy - and Wilson acted like he was very impressed and asked how did he do this or that, and commented how he would try to find out how the tricks were made with the power of his mind and science. William had obviously a bad case of state fright, because at first the poor man barely could even speak up his rehearsed opening lines, until he very slowly eased up a bit and stopped messing up so badly, and at the end of his little magic show he made much fewer mistakes than at the start.

And whenever he did a trick and looked at Wilson in anticipation, anxiously and tensely, and Wilson could just see how defeated he already was, fully prepared to hear that he had done very poorly and expecting Wilson to be very unimpressed (which he was, but he would never say it out loud), Wilson just kept complimenting him and acting like he had never seen such great magic show before.

Wilson wasn't really someone who tried to sugarcoat the facts or make things seem better than they were, but what he cared about more right now was not being an asshole. When William looked at him with so much need, he found himself unable to break that hope and small spark of pride that might've once grown to be his undoing.

"You really do like magic, huh?" Wilson stated when William had pulled his last trick, and the older man chuckled and looked away.

"Yeah... I've always wanted to be a magician ever since I was little."

"Really?" Wilson sat closer and smiled wide, and William smiled back. Wilson felt a nagging feeling in his gut, the small part of him that knew that in a way he was prying in Maxwell's personal life that the man would've never told him about if he hadn't conveniently lost half of his memory, and although Wilson could not stop the other man from telling him things, he shouldn't incite it...

"So you followed your childhood dreams? That's... that's amazing." Wilson ignored the nagging feeling. He liked William. He wanted to know more about William.

The taller man tilted his head and rubbed his neck.

"Yeah, I always thought that following my dreams would make me happy. That's a little naive, isn't it? Ah well, it didn't really turn out to be exactly what I was hoping for..."

Wilson tilted his head. Probably because William wasn't that good of a magician, but he was decent enough.

"Well, not first, at least. But then I found Codex. I learned so many things, people actually started liking me... Before I started to sell my shows as Maxwell, there were hardly anyone who wanted to come and watch me. When they came, well..." William turned to watch the low flames of the fire with melancholic look in his eyes "I don't remember how many times I got laughed out of the stage. Sometimes people, the few that came, demanded their money back. They said it wasn't worth their money and time and I ruined their evening by failing to entertain them. I was _that_ bad."

Wilson didn't say anything, watching William who seemed to be lost in thoughts, staring into the fire with hypnotized look, as if he wasn't watching the flames at all, but rather some distant scene that played only in front if his eyes, unseen to the rest of the world.

"I'm not really good at anything." he continued quietly, languidly "But Codex let's me be good at something, and it lets me be good at something I love, and no one ever mocks me or gets bored in my shows when I'm Maxwell."

Wilson swallowed. He crawled carefully even closer than he had been before, almost side by side with William now, and gave him a curious, genuine look of understanding. He hadn't been a very good scientist either. And even if he had been, well, nobody liked being ridiculed for something they liked to do.

"Is being Maxwell worth it?"

William shrugged.

"It pays off my debt and bills, and it makes people like me. It's got to be worth it, right?"

Wilson didn't know what to say. He had always thought that Maxwell was just nothing else than rude and petty old man who couldn't handle his fall from the throne, but maybe there was something more behind his bitterness. Maybe he wasn't just mean and crabby, maybe he had just gotten disappointed and crushed one too many times to really get over it. Maybe behind the scenes there were wishes that didn't come true, unreachable goals, mean comments from mean people and broken childhood dreams he had never been quite good enough to achieve.

Wilson carefully landed his hand on top of William's, and the man flinched out of his empty stare at the fire and pulled his hand away, looking rather panicked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Wilson! This must bore you. I didn't mean to ramble, I'm sorry for over-sharing, you probably don't care all that much about my stupid-"

Wilson bit his lip and rose his hands to cup both of William's cheeks, and the man cut himself off and just stared at Wilson.

"I don't think it's stupid and I like listening to you speak." he must've been very tired to say all those things so openly "I believe in you. Don't get discouraged because a few jerks made fun of you, you are so much more than they could ever hope to be. You are an amazing person and I don't care about the magic that comes from Codex, I like _your_ magic."

It might've been just Wilson mirroring his own failure to be respected scientist into William's unsuccessful try of being magician, but this time he wasn't just trying to compliment William, this time he really meant it. He didn't believe in supernatural or magic or all those kind of things, but he believed that he liked seeing William happy doing what he wanted to do, and when Maxwell would get his memory back, he would make a point of being a bit kinder to the older man about his magic then, too.

William stared at him eyes wide open, looking like he had been just gifted with a godlike present that no one else had ever received before. Then, without a warning, William pressed his own hands on Wilson's cheeks and leaned against him, pressing their lips together in a desperate and overwhelmingly wanting way.

For a second all Wilson could do what sit still and blink. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected that William would be so cute and kind and sweet, and his sudden newfound empathy for Maxwell was starting to turn out to be something else entirely when he realized that he wasn't breaking off the kiss or making any attempt to push William away.

He didn't need to, because not even a second later William snapped his eyes open and flinched back, staring Wilson with horrified expression, mouth hanging open in a silent scream and his whole face bathing in carmine color.

"I- I..." The man started and quickly snatched his hands back "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! It's just that- You see, I was- W-when you said all those nice things I- Pl-please, don't get me wrong, I-I swear I'm not like that- I would never-"

Wilson had been a bit hurt when William suddenly treated the kiss like it was the biggest mistake in the universe, but his heart warmed up when he watched the man desperately trying to explain himself and undo the damage that hadn't actually been done.

Wilson understood. It wasn't easy being like this, being a man with the taste of companions that didn't fit the social norms, and he didn't blame anyone for acting as if it was wrong in order to protect themselves from the hurtful words and stares... hurtful acts, sometimes.

He offered the other man a gentle little smile, and slowly, in order to not scare him, rose his hands up to reach William's. The older man froze, but when Wilson just took his hands on his own and smiled at him, William dared to smile back and let himself relax a bit.

"Are you, um... D-do you like...?" William was blushing a lot. He had hard time getting the words out of his mouth. Wilson just chuckled kindly.

"Yeah."

William blushed even more violently and tensed up again, but this time for the entirely different reasons, and they didn't speak much until the small bit of conversation trailed off around magic again, and William went on another little magic show that Wilson pretended to be very interested in with all of his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the classic gay dilemma: Not knowing if you like your friend, or if you LIKE like your friend.


	3. I guess I could be cuddly with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> William keeps finding ways to surprise Wilson, and Wilson realizes just how much he does liked William.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like usual I was listening my random playlists on YT and the song "Waiting in the Wings" from RTA came up when I was editing this chapter, and I swear to fucking god that song sounds like it was made for William/Maxwell.
> 
> And I really needed to tell you that because sometimes you need to share dumb shit on the internet that nobody asked for.
> 
> K bye.

It had been weeks since Maxwell had hit his head and lost his memory. Not that Wilson was counting every single day, but he had kept some kind of record of the passage of time, just because it never paid to be unobservant of the surroundings. And, because he really, really was starting to think that maybe Maxwell's memory wasn't going to come back at all. Perhaps it was gone for good, because every morning he woke up, William was still there, and he didn't seem to have recalled anything new. And if he had, he didn't let it show.

The first time William had taken off his gloves and saw his claws, he had screamed. Wilson ran to the scene ready to defend the man from the monsters, but instead of being attacked by something, William sat still and stared at his hand, holding it before his face like it was a foreign creature attached to his arm.

Wilson had to explain to him again, that it was because of the shadows. That because he had used them so much, it had made some changes to his body and they weren't dangerous, but they were there to stay. He didn't mention the throne to the man. William didn't need to remember the throne.

"Is it why I feel so-" William paused and bit his lip, furrowing his brows and still eyeing his inky colored hand "...so tired? And in pain? My back aches a lot. And it may be just a stress, but I some have trouble with sleeping."

It was partly because of that, yes, but Wilson knew it was also because William was much older than he believed himself to be, plain and simple. Age did things like that to one's body, and it couldn't be helped. Wilson pondered if he should bring that up. If William would be better of knowing how old he was, how long he had been here, how many things had happened...

But once again, it all sounded like it would be much too traumatic to William.

"I believe so." Wilson answered and hated himself for deceiving the man like this, but he told himself that technically it was not lying - just telling only half the truth. Besides, even in this situation the older man had found himself in, William seemed much happier now than he had ever seemed being Maxwell.

Sometimes the thought passed Wilson's mind, that maybe Maxwell did remember things, but being William again was just easier to him. Maybe he didn't even want to be Maxwell anymore.

But then, at some point of the conversation, William would always start talking about magic and Codex and Maxwell and Charlie and he sounded genuinely just so sure that he was better off as someone else than William. So perhaps the memories were gone and forgotten after all, and in a way Wilson even thought it was for the best.

In a one passing conversation the older man had made a quick remark that maybe, for his next show, he could even travel closer to his brother so he could invite them to see him on the stage, now that he was actually doing better for himself.

"-Did you know that I have two adorable nieces? Wendy and Abigail, Jack's twins. They're still very small and I doubt they will remember the show anyway, but maybe they will like it when they're older."

Wilson commented something very vague and quick and tried to lead the conversation elsewhere. He really didn't think that keeping everything that had happened as a secret was a best decision he had made, but William didn't even think he had done anything wrong yet. He didn't remember bringing Charlie here, he didn't remember Abigail's untimely demise or bringing Wendy here after that, he didn't remember hurting anyone. How cruel would it be to just break it to him and drop the bomb that yes, pretty much everyone he loved was gone in one way or another and it was his fault, and everyone hated him for that.

It just didn't seem fair. Maxwell had made those mistakes, not William. And even if they were the same person, Wilson couldn't just go pointing his finger at someone who hadn't done those mistakes yet. Maybe he should. But he didn't _want to_.

And Wilson, well... He really did like William.

He would've lied if he said he didn't care about Maxwell as well. He did care, it didn't make him forgive or forget, but he still cared about the man.

But there was something about William that he didn't just _care_ about, but actually _liked_. A lot. A lot lot. And he didn't want to go destroying their new and kind of strange relationship by bringing up the bad memories that, in his opinion, could go rot in some deep dark pit in William's mind and never surface from there again. The life here was hard enough as it was, there was no need to make it even harder.

It was hard enough to re-teach things to William. For his credit, at least it looked like William really did try his best. Eventually he seemed to learn most of the things he needed to know, after making the same mistake enough times. Not just one time mind you, but several times.

The fifth time when William got attacked by a frog when he just wanted to gather some berries, Wilson was really torn between letting him just learn the hard way, and kicking every frog here back to their ponds because what had William ever done to them!? But after that William just avoided the ponds, until he realized that as soon as the sun begun to set, certain creatures would retreat to hide and sleep until the next morning.

And then it took several days for him to learn that some creatures were the opposite - Wilson was glad that he happened to be with the man when they were trading some old junk from the graves to the pig King, and William went to inspect the nearby spider den. It wasn't hard to drag the tall man away from the hissing arachnids and lead him back to their camp, and the following night Wilson made sure to explain some much more needed facts about dangerous creatures of the Constant.

And William was always so polite and apologetic about everything, too. It would've been annoying, if he wasn't still going out of his way to make up for the mistakes and learn from them. It was a refreshing, nice change after spending time with Maxwell who never apologized about anything and always made sure to point out what Wilson could've done to prevent things going wrong, as if it was his fault that Maxwell was weak and frail and couldn't even fight some spiders without needing days to recover afterwards.

William was weak and frail too. But at least he knew it, and didn't treat it like it was _Wilson's_ fault somehow. 

The only thing that seemed to have stayed the same between Maxwell and William was the man's sanity taking disturbingly little damage from things that drove everyone else insane. Maybe it had something to do with the fascination about the magic and unknown and shadows, or then Maxwell had just really been too long on the throne for his brain to get hurt by something as trivial as giant monsters trying to murder him, but at least he had that on his advantage. It was reassuring and comforting to know that at least Wilson didn't have to worry about that.

Days kept passing by with minor incidents and troubles, but it was not anything special. Just normal Constant stuff, trying not to starve and freeze and get killed by everything that moved. Nothing special.

And then, just like it always did, the life got a bit more harder, just when Wilson had started to lull himself to the feeling of relative safety and comfort.

There was a beautiful full moon shining it's blue tinted light on the usually lightless night, and Wilson had dared to wander near the pig village. He was smart enough not to go in the middle of the village, but he had missed out on glommer on so many moons, and he just really wanted to both save the little weird guy from the werebigs, and have the benefit of the flying therapy session in his camp. Besides, he was sure that William would like it. William seemed to have a lot of affection towards the fluffy weird creatures. And who wouldn't like glommer when it brought so many benefits to life? The only real downside was probably the noise it made, but compared to the pros, it was a really small con.

William's tall figure hovered behind him, and Wilson could just smell the nervousness from the older man. He had asked William to wait in the camp, but the man had insisted coming with him, and in the end Wilson had decided that it would be a good thing for William to learn a few things about full moon and the influence on the world beneath it.

Besides, he speculated that the reason why William insisted going with him was that he really didn't like being alone at night. The lack of light seemed to be hard enough to handle, but the absolute worst part had to be Charlie.

Wilson had caught the man trying to have a conversation with Charlie a couple of times, standing discomfortably close to the complete darkness, and even if he had never gotten hurt after the first time, he had been dangerously close to it. The fact that Charlie was there, that she was still at least real and so close to the touch but unable to be reached seemed to make William confused and frustrated about the whole thing, not really sure why Charlie would be this way or why he couldn't reach out to her.

Wilson kept his eye on the situation, but he didn't interfere. William always gave up after some time, but never completely, just for the rest of the night, just for the time being. He would always try again some other night. And in the middle of that little crisis, he seemed to lean onto Wilson quite a lot for some kind of comfort and understanding, and Wilson really wanted to be comforting and understanding to him. Even if it meant that he had to bring William with him to the pig village and face the potentially traumatically dangerous creatures, because the man was too uncomfortable being alone at night even if the darkness was kept a bay by the bright light of the full moon.

"Okay. Just... Try to stay away from the werepigs and whatever you do, do not try to fight them. Run if you have to. But don't try to fight. They're strong and persistent, and trust me, you _don't_ want five of them chasing you until the morning."

"I'm not an idiot, Wilson." William answered calmly. He sounded mostly just trying to convince himself rather than the scientist.

"I know you're not." Wilson turned to give him a smirk before leaving their hiding spot, and sneaking closer to the statue where the pretty flower shined in the moonlight. He glanced around and decided to quickly just sprint to catch the flower and then run back, and if he was lucky, the pigs would be too busy killing whatever there might still be awake at this hour, or at least munching down on anything they could find on ground.

But alas, luck was never on his side, was it? Lady fortune hadn't smiled that much upon him much in his lifetime, even less in the place such as Constant. He had enough time to run to the statue and snatch the flower, but as soon as he turned around, he was met with the hairy, large creature that didn't waste time rising it's claws up in attack. Wilson stumbled backwards and succeeded avoiding the strike, but then he turned around and saw that there were more of pigs now. At least three werepigs, their glowing empty eyes staring back at him, their jaws hanging open and shoving their large fangs, and he had barely time to think when they lunged forward, hunger in their eyes.

"Wilson!" He could hear William's panicky voice calling, and he just snatched an axe from his backpack and gave the other man a serious yet frightened look.

"No, stay there! Don't come!"

He could see William doing a lot of unsure, nervous movements, contemplating if he should listen and stay away or intervene. Wilson had managed to avoid getting hurt for now, but he was surrounded - he had to look for an opening, a spot where he was less likely to get hit, but it didn't seem promising. No matter which way he'd run, he wouldn't be able to escape without getting hurt.

Still, he had to try. Getting hurt was better than getting killed.

Wilson sprinted to the left, and it didn't really even surprise him when he suddenly received a pair of huge claws that sunk into his side, sharp like taggers, drawing blood and tearing flesh. Then he was tossed on the ground, and he let out a sharp gasp, curling up when the pain flooded all over his body. He heard the growling monsters coming closer. He heard the glommer's weird buzzing sounds somewhere behind, and he distantly realized that he had dropped the flower somewhere, he heard the panicky noises William made, but he was in pain and he already knew he had been too clumsy and slow this time...

God, why did he have to be such a screw-up?

"Leave him alone!" William's angry, frantic voice hit his eardrums, and Wilson shot his eyes open, panic and worry rising on the top of his other emotions. No, William had no idea what he was doing, he would die if Wilson let him come closer in attempt to rescue him, it would be so bad for both of them-

And then something very large, soft and dark curled around his body, and he was grabbed inside the grayish mass of shadow that lifted him off the ground and above the greedily reaching werepigs, too high for them to sink their claws in him anymore.

More shadows were on the ground, taking vague and unfinished forms and attacking the pigs. Wilson could only blink. His eyes stared into the scene for a moment longer, until eventually they wandered to find William. The man was standing where Wilson had left him, but he had Codex open in his hand, and there were countless of shadows flowing out of it - way more than could've been healthy for him, Wilson realized, but he was too shocked to understand he should tell William to stop before he hurt himself.

Not that William looked like he would even heard Wilson if he tried to shout at him, the man seemed to be taken over by the shadows that were fighting with the werepigs, some smaller ones just curling around his feet like cats asking for scratches. Black goo was dripping out of the pages like the book was trying to vomit out every bit of magic it contained, and William didn't even seem to notice how it stained his sleeves and arms even more than usually. The man was just gritting his teeth, his expression mixture of outrage and fright. Wilson couldn't help but notice that at that moment William seemed excactly like Maxwell again. He just stared at the man while the shadows kept flowing until every single pig laid on the ground, lifeless, cold and unmoving.

William briefly turned his attention to the Pig King, sleeping where he always was, and after deeming it harmless, the man let out a relieved and horrified little sigh, and the large shadow claw that was holding Wilson pulled him down and closer to William.

"Are you okay?! Are you hurt?! Do you need help?!? I don't know any medical-"

"It's fine, it's really _fine_ , William. Um, maybe just let me down, please...?"

Only then did William seem to realize what had happened. He looked at the shadow holding Wilson with wide, surprised eyes, and then dropped his gaze to the book in his hand. It had gone still again, not a trace of the shadows that had crawled out of the pages just a moment ago, besides the dark stains on William's arms. The man closed his mouth and blinked.

"...Yes, sure." was all he said, with a blank, confused voice, eyes still locked to the Codex. Wilson wheezed out a long breath when the dark essence dropped him on his feet and vanished, leaving only few puddles of nightmare fuel behind. He didn't really care being handled by the shadows, and even though he trusted William wouldn't hurt him, it didn't make him feel a lot better about being grasped inside the giant claw.

Both of the men stood still and silent for a moment. Then William spoke up, voice quiet and trembling "A-a-are you, are you, are you alright?"

"I think so, I-"

The rest of the words never had time to leave his tongue, because as soon as he had answered, William gave him a quick panicky smile, before his eyes rolled on the back of his head and he passed out, falling on the ground faster than Wilson had even time to react.

The younger man knelt down to take a quick look at the man, but nothing seemed to be wrong. It was just an extreme overuse of the Codex and the shadows, nothing serious. At least, Wilson hoped it wasn't. He couldn't tell before William would wake up, but at least there seemed to be physically little to worry about.

The scientist sighed, much calmer now, and glanced at the flower on the ground, and the fuzzy creature hovering above it, small wings fluttering wildly to support the fat, fluffy body. Well, they got glommer alright. The werepigs were dealt with, so they got meat and pigskin. And well, William didn't seem that hurt, and Wilson would heal himself when they got back to the camp. It seemed that the night went, not quite like he had imagined, but well nonetheless.

With another small sigh Wilson slipped glommer's flower to his chest pocket, and carefully scooted William's slender body up from the ground, and started to make his way back to the base to recover from the surprisingly eventful night.

He had time to put the older man rest on the straw roll inside the tent, place glommer's flower in the chest, patch his own wound up with some salve and honey poultice, and make them something to eat for the morning. He was a bit sorry he didn't have enough ingredients to make wobster for William, but the magician just had to make a do with some meatballs then. Besides, Wilson was way too tired to concentrate on cooking.

When he finally crawled back inside the tent, William was awake again. Their eyes met, and immediately William bit his lip, looking very guilty and apologetic "I'm sorry, I didn't realize... I was just so worried and angry when they hurt you and I didn't think what I was doing when I..."

Wilson sat down in front of him and placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's fine. You helped a lot... Um, if you don't mind me asking... Don't you remember doing that before at all? " _You have done that thousands of times before_ "Pulling the shadows from the book, I mean."

William nodded "Yes, on the stage. It's part of my show, I pull the shadows out of the book, but I have never... they have never been _alive_ , not like that. I'm not even sure if I was in control, I was just doing what felt the best and it felt so strange and otherworldly and it was _amazing_ ," William's confused panic had suddenly stepped aside and there was something else in his voice now, a dangerously familiar excitement. Wilson could see there was a small spark inside his dark eyes, when he stared at Wilson, but not quite. More like straight through him "I wonder if I can do that again. It could be great, it could be _amazing_ , imagine if I could just, bend them to my will and make them do things as I wish, imagine how many possibilities-"

William's eyes met with Wilson's, only for a second, but it was enough to make him pause. He immediately fell silent as his face turned solemn, head bowing to his chest and eyes dulling down again, the excitement gone and the apologetic look, that was starting to become a little bit too familiar to Wilson, in his eyes again.

"...Maybe I shouldn't. I-I'm sorry, I could've hurt you if they went out of control. I shouldn't, m-maybe I need to just stop altogether, if I can't even be sure that..."

Wilson rose his hand under William's chin and lifted it up, giving him a kind smile "Maybe just take it easy for a bit, okay? You _did_ save me, you know. Thanks, I couldn't have done it without your help there." He started to unconsciously rub his finger along the other man's chin, giving him a gentle look that he hoped was calming.

William opened his mouth, looked at him with an expression that was something else than his previous panic and excitement and confusion, and let his lower lip curl under his teeth, staring Wilson like he had grown three heads.

"You aren't... Y-you aren't afraid of me now?" He sounded so hesitant to speak. Did he honestly think that after being downright adorable for few weeks straight Wilson could ever be afraid of him again? William was too scared of what other people thought of him. Maybe Wilson should've been afraid of him, but it seemed that William was much more afraid of himself than Wilson could ever be.

The scientist snorted out a huff of laughter "Will, trust me; there is nothing remotely scary about you. You have to be the most precious, kind, and caring person I've ever met. You're not probably even aware of how likeable you are, and you know, I don't feel a slightest bit uncomfortable around you. Which is kind of new thing for me, heh..."

William looked at him for a long, long time without saying a word, but he didn't seem to be as withdrawn as before, which in turn made Wilson much more relaxed himself. But still, there was some other kind of hesitance in the other man's aura now, something a bit more delicate. The magician loosely curled his long fingers around Wilson's wrist, and the scientist realized he was still holding the other man by his chin. William's touch was very soft and careful, but it still felt like a hot flame burning against Wilson's skin. He was filled with the overwhelming feeling to both press closer and pull away.

"... Are you hurt?" William asked with a quiet voice, hand tenderly petting the younger man's wrist, leaning a bit closer to him. Wilson felt his heart beat against his chest, unable to feel nothing else than the touch on his wrist. He just shook his head. He didn't know if it was the drill of the fight, if it was the adrenaline, but he could sense the anticipation in the air between them.

"...Are _you?_ " He leaned closer as well and let his hand drop from William's chin to his chest, joyful to notice that William didn't let go. The older man shook his head, too. They sat there for a while, a bit too close to relax back to the way they had been, a bit too close not to feel the exhales that collided in the air between them, a bit too close not to hear the excited heartbeats, anxiously drumming inside both of their chest's.

Wilson let his eyes steal a quick glimpse of the other man's lips. They were parted slightly, soft and full and so _close_. He wondered if they tasted as good as they looked. He wondered if they felt as good as they seemed. He quickly let his eyes dart back to William's. They were moving around too, watching his face cautiously, as if afraid to do anything else than try to memorize every inch of his face.

Wilson licked his lips and haltingly inched closer, almost holding his breath. William leaned closer too, just as carefully slow. The scientist tilted his head just a bit to get a better angle, and William quietly followed his lead. Neither of them dared to say anything, but they both knew what was about to happen. It was William who closed his eyes first, and Wilson took that as a go-ahead, and finally let his lips softly press on the other one's.

The kiss was sweet. And awkward. And every second they were pressed against each other Wilson heard his own heartbeat in his ears and was almost afraid to move in fear of dispelling this moment and breaking the spell that was in the air. There had to be a spell. William had bewitched him, and he for one had absolutely nothing to complain about it.

They pulled away, but only just, only enough to create a theoretical space between them. Wilson let his eyes meet with William, and the dark eyes weren't dull or confused anymore. They were lidded, only slightly open, but they were shining from something now, a need or a want, Wilson didn't really know. He didn't need to know. He just took a breath and let his lip brush on William's, but the other man pressed in to take another, soft and short kiss, then slowly parted again.

Wilson, very apprehensively and clumsily, let the tip of his tongue slip against the lips of the other one, testing if this was too far, afraid he'd move too fast, and almost backing up when William made a small whine escape his mouth, until the older man's own tongue slithered out and licked Wilson lower lip, pressing there harder, pushing against it. Wilson decided to close his eyes, let himself just feel what was good and what not, instead of trying to control the situation and over-analyzing every small sign he got from William.

Their tongues were slowly and awkwardly sliding against each other between the open mouths, in the middle off heavy, nervous and needy breaths. It was very experimental almost, careful and unsure. But there was the absolute understanding between the two men, that there was nothing unsure about what the both of them wanted right now.

Eventually Wilson got enough courage to let his tongue brush inside William's mouth, pressing their lips together just for a second before pulling away again, and the heat in his chest started to spread all over him, not just burning his cheeks anymore. William rose his hand and tangled his fingers on Wilson's shirt, tugging him ever so slightly closer. Wilson complied and let his tongue slid inside again, and this time William pressed against him and did the same.

Wilson didn't even notice when they started to fall down, and when William laid his back to the ground under him, cracking his eyes open to give him a flustered look, Wilson let his mouth curl into a small smile before pressing closer and melting into William, merging together with him, bodies tangled together like serpents.

\---

Wilson cracked his eyes open to the sunshine blinking through the tent flap. He turned on his side and saw the other man sleeping there, curled into himself and long arms tangled around Wilson, holding his lazily in his sleep. He was still mostly naked, as was Wilson, but the man did not notice or care about it now.

He had almost expected the last night to be just a dream, just a wistful imagination his loneliness and yearning for intimacy had baked up and fed him to keep him sane a little bit longer. But it was real, and William was real, and Wilson felt a warm feeling inside his chest when his eyes wandered on the sleeping man. He smiled and turned on his side, letting his hand brush through the messy hair that had been neat and combed before last night. Wilson felt his own hair being wildly out of shape and messy and ruffled as well, and, to be honest, it was the only thing he wasn't happy about at the moment. Everything else though, was something he could get used to.

Under his wandering hand the other man stirred and sluggishly fluttered his eyes open. It didn't take long for his eyes rose up to Wilson, and there was a tired smile on his lips.

"Hey."

"Hi."

Wilson leaned down and pressed his nose on William's hair. It was so thin and soft, like silk. Except that it was dark, maybe a bit greying, but mostly it was almost as dark as his eyes.

"Are you usually this cuddly?" William laughed, much less tense and awkward than before, Wilson noticed.

"No. But it feels good to be close to you, so I guess, I could be cuddly with you?"

William laughed again and hoisted himself on his elbows and bumped his forehead against Wilson, snuggling him fondly "I haven't gotten to be close to anyone for a long time. Charlie was my friend, so, it was different. It wasn't like this. It wasn't like..."

There was a word, a sweet, strong word that might've described what was going on between them, but it was too early to say it. For Wilson, at least. He truly, deeply did like William. He liked William's smile and laugh and weird clumsy magic tricks, and the way he spoke and moved and breathed. He liked the way William looked like, always had liked that, and it wasn't dishonest to admit that he felt very close to the man.

But to put a label on it... no, not yet. It was too soon for that. But perhaps later, perhaps when Wilson was sure that this was real and his feeling weren't only the outcome of loneliness and starvation for human touch. If this feeling happened to disappear at any point, if it turned out that it wasn't as strong as it felt right now, Wilson wouldn't want to hurt William by claiming he felt something he didn't. That wasn't fair, and if William felt as strongly as he did seem to feel, then it would be cruel to give him empty promises of false relationships that weren't going to last.

"I like you, Wilson." William's tender, soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, and for a moment Wilson was afraid that it had already happened, that William would start confessing something too deep and too real and Wilson would have to break his poor, hopeful heart in two, but the magician's next words put him at ease "I don't want to pressure you. I know that this happens a lot. Believe me, it has happened a lot to me too. I don't expect you to have any feelings for me, I just... I, I-I really like you. You feel like a friend, a real friend. Someone I could trust, you know?"

William sounded almost ashamed to say it, as if Wilson would start yelling at him, as if he wasn't sure he was allowed to trust Wilson. It made the younger man's heart ache. He breathed out and cupped William's cheeks, pulling him close and placing a soft, light kiss on his nose.

"I like you too. I know it's sudden for you, uh, maybe for both of us, but... I haven't really felt like this with other people. I haven't felt like I am whole with them. But I don't want to give you unrealistic expectations, I don't want you to get hurt-"

William chuckled. It made Wilson chuckle too, just out of the contentment and calm he hadn't felt for ages, and for a short while they just laughed softly like two idiots.

"You don't have to worry about that, I'm not as fragile as you think. I can handle couple of heartbreaks and rejection in my life, Wilson."

Wilson blushed, and William gave him a kiss "It's okay. I just want to be by your side, whether as friend or as something else."

Suddenly 'friends' didn't seem to be the correct way to describe their relationship. Wilson decided that 'something else' sounded good for now.

It sounded right.


	4. Pretty hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> William really enjoys watching Wilson work.

Wilson was used to Maxwell's staring. For someone who seemed to value his own privacy over anything else, he sure seemed to have very little regard for other people's privacy. On top of that, Wilson was sure that the stares he got were judgemental, which he surprisingly didn't like all that much. He had never _asked_ if they were, but he had a hunch. Maxwell didn't seem to respect his intelligence all that much, so it left very little doubt in his mind which type of stares he was getting from the older man.

That being said, Wilson had noticed that William had a bit of habit of staring at him too, mostly when he was working on some science project. And it wasn't very subtle either, the man just usually sat down, leaned on his palms and just watched, like it was some kind of entertainment for him.

Wilson wasn't sure what to make of that. He didn't mind that much that someone was stopping to watch when he worked, he usually went so deep into zone that he didn't even notice, but it bothered him that he wasn't really sure of why William was watching him so closely, and more of, why the man was literally dropping other things in order to just ogle at him.

Eventually the continuous eyes on his back drove the man to the state where he was completely unable to concentrate on doing anything at all. He turned to face William, who was currently sitting on his backpack, and furrowed his brows at the other man.

"What?"

William blinked at him, confused "What what?"

"What do you want?"

William seemed a bit worried.

"I... I don't want anything?"

"Then why are you just staring at me like that?" Wilson hadn't meant to sound so aggravated, but the discomfort of being constantly eyed on like some especially interesting specimen under the looking glass was starting to really get on his nerves. William's open, confused expression turned into a withdrawn frown as the man instantly dropped his gaze on his feet, seemingly ashamed of himself, and jumped up. 

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't aware that I was bothering you so much." he said with a quiet voice "I didn't mean to. I'll go somewhere else, I'm sorry." William turned on his heels and started to leave in quite hurry, but Wilson let out a sigh of regret and stopped him.

"Wait." He called, voice much softer, rubbing his neck and biting his lip nervously "Come back, I didn't mean it like that."

A bit hesitantly and haltingly William turned to face him, then slowly made his way back to him. He didn't sit back down, instead walking in front of Wilson, tilting his head questioningly, giving the man an unsure look. Wilson almost just wished he hadn't even pointed out that William's staring got to him. The magician had started to finally relax, almost enough to not apologize for everything and beat himself up for every small mistake, and Wilson really didn't want the man to think that Wilson was kind of guy who would snap and start yelling at him for no real reason. The scientist sighed.

"Look, I don't mind you watching, I really don't. I just... I guess I just don't understand why, and it bothers me."

"Is that all?" William laughed and relaxed, and Wilson looked away, blushing. That was not funny, at least he didn't understand why it would be. It was completely normal to get nervous when people where watching you, not knowing what they thought.

"Y-yeah, it is. What's so funny about it?" he mumbled, a bit embarrassed, defensive.

Wilson almost jumped when there was a hand gently landing on his cheek, and the young man turned to face William, who had closed the short distance between them and was now standing so very close to him, smiling down at him in that ridiculously sweet way he did.

"No, there's nothing funny about it. I just like watching you work. Has anyone ever told you that your hands look very pretty?"

Wilson opened his mouth, and he was sure had meant to say something when he did it, but the only thing that came out was a small and short whimper of confusion and embarrassment. Now he was absolutely convinced that William was as blind as a bat. His hands did _not_ look pretty, not in the slightest. On the contrary, they were scarred over, they were dry and burned and his cuticles were almost chronically torn and bleeding, nails cracked and uneven, ragged and rough, grainy. He had the kind of hands that people saw and thought 'he must be either working really hard, or be very very clumsy'. And they were right, he was. Both.

"Ehe he.. Yeah, you know Will, you have kind of a bad eyesight, so I won't blame you for making that mistake, but I really don't have pretty hands. Maybe you haven't seen them up close, but they're really not a nice sight." Wilson laughed, trying to nervously and imperceptibly hide his hands in his pant pockets in shame. William, however, took his other hand by a wrist and rose it between them, tracing his long, sharp fingertips on his skin. Wilson shivered under the touch.

"I think they are." The man started with a slow, soft tone "When you work, you always handle things so carefully and softly, and your fingers are very firm and steady when you hold something. You're reliable but gentle. Even when you don't know what you're doing, you never back down or hesitate, you follow through with your intention with confidence. Unlike me, heh. I think... I think it's very... Um, it's very charming." William spoke lovingly, admiringly, when his dark eyes watched the younger man's hand, carefully taking in every single detail of his tortured skin. His cheeks might've had a light pink color on them, but Wilson's cheeks were positively screaming red. He hadn't seen William so... self-confident before. It wasn't like Maxwell's arrogant and poised self-confidence, it was more vulnerable, more brittle. The confidence was barely there, but it was there nonetheless.

"You're very kind, Will, but I don't-" Wilson lost his words mid-sentence when William bowed his head and left a small, ticklish kiss on back of Wilson's hand.

"I will let you and your hands get back to work. I'm sorry I'm in the way." There wasn't anything in his voice that indicated that William was offended or hurt in any way. Just genuinely willing (Heh, WILL-ing) to give Wilson his own space. The young man let his own eyes lay on his own hand a while after it was let go, unable to move back to his work.

"...It's not just because of _why_ you'd want to watch me work." He said quietly, staring at his hand like he had never seen it before. Well, he hadn't, not in this way. William had done something to it, because it didn't seem quite the same anymore "It's because no one has really watched me work before. Not really."

"Not even your lab assistant?" William asked in genuine confusion and surprise.

"Never had one. Or I did, once, when I was just starting. Apparently I'm 'reckless' and 'dangerous' and shouldn't be allowed near anything explosive. Hmp. As if that would stop any self-respective scientist from doing their work." the young man huffed in slight annoyance, until his face softened again, turning sadder now "I never... I like working alone. I can do what I want and I don't have to worry about hurting someone else by accident, and I don't have to worry about getting hurt... by someone else." Wilson bit his lip and closed his eyes, swallowing down a small lump in his throat.

Oh, there were several reasons why he had wanted to work and live alone in the past. It was better to be alone than be judged. It was better to shut himself away rather than get shut away by someone else. Wilson had found his safe space, his fortress in solitude and isolation, and that had worked out for him just fine.

Well, he had thought it had worked out for him.

Nowadays he found himself missing company much more than he had back then. He was yearning for touch and longing for conversation, and the old him might've called that a betrayal for his dedication to science and only science, but the circumstances here were so very different from Earth. Here people didn't think he was stupid, or weird, or nutjob or dangerous or unstable. Here people liked him, here he didn't get judged so much.

They were all more or less just misfits in their own way, and even if Wilson could say he liked some of them more than the others, he would've never judged any them for who they were.

Wilson startled out of his thoughts when a crooked nose pressed on his forehead, William's warm breath huffing against his skin, as the man closed him into a loose hug.

"I would never hurt you." The man told him, a lot of affection in his voice, and Wilson felt his long fingers press on his neck and stroke it caringly "I don't think you would hurt me either. If you want, I could help you doing, um, doing science? Sometime? I-I could be your assistant if you need help with something."

"You... Would you really do that?" Wilson pulled away and glanced at the other man, who smiled at him, still a bit shyly, but very openly. Wilson felt something in his chest burst out, spreading a warm, tingly sensation around his body. Not once had anyone told him that they wanted to work together with him. Well, except for that time when the ominous voice in the old radio had so generally offerd him some 'forbidden knowledge'. That was a different thing, though, there had been very different motives in Maxwell's mind back then.

Even now Wilson could tell that people didn't really want to work together with him. Sometimes people would offer occasional help, and they often helped when Wilson asked, but nobody had ever offered to work together with him, as a pair. William laughed as if Wilson just told him a funny joke.

"Of course I would! I would be delighted to get to work with you. Uh, unless it'd be inconvenient to you? I don't want to intrude!"

"N-no, no! No it's fine, I... I would really like that..." Wilson quickly answered the older man, trying to will the red color in his face away. His face pulled into a small smile "I guess that having a new pair of hands to help me out would be really _handy_."

William stared at him. Wilson stared back, with an idiotic, a bit panicky grin on his face. Not everyone laughed at these kinda jokes but he just couldn't stop himself when he thought of a good pun and he _had to_ say it out loud if someone was there to hear (Sometimes he said it out loud even when nobody else was around to hear it).

William kept looking at him with a confused face for a while. Then he started laughing, kindly.

"You're really odd person, Wilson. Like me. I like being around you."

Wilson wanted very much to just jump up and wrap his arms around William's neck and kiss and hug him and tell him that he was not odd or weird or strange and Wilson really, really liked being around him too.

But he just smiled without really knowing what to say, and took William's hand on his own. There was not a bit of hesitation before the older man tangled their fingers together, and gave him a smile of his own.

"....Should I stay here?"

Wilson didn't really know if he felt comfortable about being stared at, even if he knew that he was being stared at with the purest, sweetest form of affection, but he nodded quietly and just pulled William's hand against his chest "You could hold some things for me, if you want."

"I would be honored."


End file.
